


a bit of survivor's guilt

by TheEbonHawk



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, But not a lot of comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ficlet, Gen, Only background romance, Pre-Fic character death, Some of the crew lived, Teen for language and angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 20:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10670283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEbonHawk/pseuds/TheEbonHawk
Summary: Cassian is tired and wishing things had gone differently.





	a bit of survivor's guilt

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a short what-if idea that I felt like writing. Sometimes I wish at least someone had survived Scarif.
> 
> Please leave kudos and consider leaving a comment if you like it!

Cassian was sensitive after Scarif - grief for Jyn, regret for Baze and Chirrut, and a sense of mental scarring from the ordeal and the devastating loss of life. He'd been through ordeals before, and would be again before this war was over, but right now his world was narrowed to this one thing that had left him shaken.

Bodhi helped. Both by deliberately comforting him and just by being there. Cass couldn't help but be glad he was alive with Bodhi next to him, Bodhi loving him.

They helped each other - Cass wished Jyn were there, too, that Chirrut and Baze were somewhere safe and nice together bickering about the Force instead of.

Instead of buried in the back of Cassian’s head, instead of not buried anywhere in the real world, floating around as stardust.

Every time Cass thought the word ‘stardust,’ he clenched his teeth and tried to convince himself that things were okay, that he wasn't in love with a dead Jyn Erso.

Sometimes it didn't work. Often. Always.

Cassian was leaning against the doorjamb of his and Bodhi’s quarters thinking  _ stardust,  _ thinking  _ how could I let her die  _ when K2 approached.

“Senator Princess Organa wants to see you.”

Cassian shook his head. “I'm not going, K.” He went into the room and sat on the end of the bed. Maybe today he would just curl up and be quiet until training.

Even without an organic means of expression, K2 seemed distinctly unimpressed. “Cassian, you have to go. It's Senator Organa. She wants to thank us for what we did on Scarif.”

Cassian glared at him. “Don't tell me what the fuck to do, K.”

K2 gave a slightly modulated sigh. “You know, I don't always like you either.”

Cass gave him a look somewhere between amused and irritated. “Is there another part to that sentence?”

K shook his head, strolling into the room to stand next to Cassian.

Cass laughed, then sighed. “Alright, I'm sorry. But I'm really not going anywhere right now. Too many ghosts today.”

K2 put a hand on Cassian’s shoulder - he didn't really do touch that often, being a droid, but he had learned that some organics appreciate it, and had come to like it himself from time to time. “I'm sorry about Jyn and Chirrut and Baze, and the other soldiers that died. But I'll remind you that you are not at fault, Cassian Andor.”

Cass looked up at the droid towering over him with a hand on his shoulder. His frown was as skeptical as a street smart punk faced with a Jedi. “We were supposed to look out for each other.”

“You did your best.  We all did.”

It took a moment, but slowly, Cass nodded. He still didn't entirely believe it - probably never would - but he had to try and let go of this self-blame. The truth was, he knew he deserved better. He looked down at his hands. “Thank you, K.”

K2 patted his shoulder gently. “I'll tell the Senator you're resting. I'm sure she'll understand.”

Cassian nodded, but as K2 crossed the room to leave he sighed. Organa wasn't A Senator anymore, he reminded himself. Just a rebel leader now, a criminal and a victim like the rest of them, but not for long.

If he had to lose this much for a shot at the Empire, he decided, he was going to win.


End file.
